Don't Kill Me
by hbruce
Summary: Gordon ropes Alan into helping him pull another prank. Or does he...?
1. Chapter 1

**Here's my attempt at a humorous(I hope) story, about Alan writing a letter to Scott.**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own the Thunderbirds, or any of the characters or places mentioned in this story. All are owned by... other people. BUT NOT ME! Sadly.**

* * *

Dear Scott,

I guess if you're reading this, it means you're back from the mainland, and you're probably standing in the middle of your room with steam coming out of your ears, ready to strangle me, then push my corpse of a cliff tied to a rock. Look, I'm going to cut right to the chase, ok?

I AM SORRY! Also, DO NOT BELIEVE GORDON! THIS WAS NOT MY IDEA, NO MATTER WHAT HE SAYS! I SWEAR!

Now, I understand that walking into a room that has been emptied of all furniture and that has had its walls painted with hot pink and bright yellow ice cream cones and smiley faces might be a tad frustrating (I'm guessing murderously infuriating is more accurate, isn't it?), but just hear me out.

AND I REPEAT. DO **NOT** LISTEN TO WHATEVER STORY GORDON HAS SPUN ABOUT WHAT HAPPENED. IT IS COMPLETE AND UTTER NONSENSE.

I'll tell you what really happened, ok? So it started when I was packing my stuff this morning. Gordo just came waltzing into my room with his hands in his pockets and a huge grin on his face. You know, the one that screams _"I am an evil genius and you should all have a deep-rooted fear of me."_

Well normally I would have jumped at the chance to help him with one of his plots, but seeing as it was my last day home before going back to school, I figured I would be nice to you guys and not pull anything. You're welcome. Anyways, I told him so, but he just kept smirking at me like a maniac. It really got on my nerves, so I finally asked him what he wanted.

"Nothing." He said, and just kept standing there smiling. It took all my willpower not to smack him upside the head with my chemistry notebook. Finally, just when I was thinking that the window would be a better option, he said "Are you ready?"

I was instantly suspicious. You know you would be too, don't deny it. "For what?" I said. And he said:

"To leave your greatest, everlasting impression on our brother dearest."

I didn't want to, I really wanted to be nice on my last day, but he wasn't leaving my alone and I knew I wouldn't be able to concentrate on packing while he was being creepy like that. So I followed him out the door. I KNOW. I SHOULDN'T HAVE. But he just has that uncanny ability to get what he wants. I think we should consider sending him to a specialist on mystic powers or something.

But anyways. So I follow Gordo to the closet down the hall, where he starts rummaging around in the very back. He spent 5 minutes rooting around in there before he finally pulled out this box. In the box, there were all these bottles and stuff. And then we went to the workshop and got some long pieces of wood, and… you know what? I'll spare you the details. To make a long story short, we got a bunch of stuff (I still had no idea what was going on, mind you) and then went to his room.

We sat in there for a bit while he explained his plan to me. When he finally finished, I was shocked. Like, really shocked. I didn't know he was capable of such deviousness. Extreme mischief, sure, but this was downright devilry. Though you have to admit, it is kind of funny (but still, NOT MY IDEA).

I still don't understand how we managed to get your bed out the window, but we did. The entire time I was torn between wondering why the heck no one was hearing what we were doing and coming to stop us, and wondering how we were going to even pull it off. I think it went a lot like this:

Me: "Gordon, what the heck are we doing? There is no way we are going to be able to get his stuff out of his room."

Gordon: "Alan, you still have a lot to learn. It's really not that complicated."

Me: "Yeah, sure, you're right. This is no more complicated than that time you decided to turn all the water in the pool to jell-o, just to see what it would be like."

Gordon: "Ramble for ten minutes about how that was a good plan, and went really well." Guess he forgot about Virgil AND Dad's little tumbles, didn't he? It really would have been a smart idea on his part to clean the deck after the jell-o cooled. Hey, at least it was peach, right? Dad's favourite!

Anyways. Me: Gordon. This is a stupid. This isn't going to work."

Gordon: "Oh really?" *Pushes mattress out the window, down the skids (pieces of wood), and into the dirt (And smiles like a madman. Seriously Scott, he needs to see a doctor).*

Half an hour later your bed frame had joined your mattress on the ground, and I was tired.

"This is where you leave your name, Al." he said. So I wrote the note saying:

"To Scott. Love Alan" That's all I did, I swear. After that I left. It was GORDON who moved the dresser, bookcase and desk, took all your posters down, piled the rest of your stuff into the center of the room and painted the walls. I didn't find out about the other stuff until a few hours later, when I realised I had left my sweater in your room from when I got hot manoeuvring the bed frame onto the skids. By then it was too late to do anything about it, and Virgil was calling me, saying we had ten more minutes before we had to leave.

So there. I would have called and explained, but I wanted you to have something with you that would clear my name when you saw the evidence, instead of giving you a few hours to research the best ways of discreetly disposing of a body.

Again, I'm really sorry Scott. I know I don't say that often, but I really am. I'll make it up to you one day, I promise.

Love, you're deeply sorry (though adorable) brother, Alan.

P.S.: Please don't kill me.

* * *

Scott stood in the doorway to his room, speechless. He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying not to explode. With barely contained rage, and a slightly twitching eye, he stepped slowly back into the hallway, letting the letter flutter to the floor behind him. He took a few –ineffective- calming breaths, and bellowed.

"GORDON!"

* * *

A few days later, Alan sat on his Wharton's dorm room bed, a letter clutched tightly in his slightly trembling hand. On it, were written just three words.

_This. Means. War._

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_**So what did ya think? Good? Bad? Funny? Lame? R&R**_

**_HONEST COMMENTS PLEASE. FLAMES WELCOME._**


	2. Chapter 2

**Again, I hope this is actually amusing to someone. Drop me a note and tell me? Please?**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own anyone or any locations in this story. Only my ideas.**

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The sound of a ringing telephone made Alan jump as he was pulled from his sleep. Wiping the drool from his mouth, he reached to grab his cell phone, wincing as the loud ringing pierced the night silence. He could hear Fermat starting to stir above him, also having been awoken by the ringing.

Alan leaned over the guardrail on the top bunk to whisper in Fermat's ear. "Sorry Ferm, I forgot to set my ringer to silent."

Fermat's reply came slowly, slightly muffled by the pillow that his face was buried into. "Well shut it off... the moon landing team needs me..." Alan snorted once at his friend's comment. _Ferm's clearly in dreamland._

He tiptoed to their en-suite bathroom and softly shut the door, turning to sit on the lowered toilet seat. "Hello...?" he mumbled, hoping he was being quiet enough that Fermat could go back to sleep.

He loved the younger boy like a brother, but having to deal with him when he hadn't gotten enough sleep always resulted in disaster. Alan shuddered, remembering the last time Fermat had been kept awake. The boy had stormed off in a rage, and then fallen down two flights of stairs when his tired eyes had misjudged the distance to the last on at the top. Alan, who had been following Fermat in hopes that he could calm him down, had tumbled along for the last half of the fall, breaking his wrist in the process. Fermat hadn't fared much better, with a dislocated shoulder and sprained ankle. Both boys had also had a colourful array of bruises to add to the injury list.

The voice that answered Alan was also being as quiet as possible, though for a very different reason. _"Alan..."_ Gordon hissed. _"How could you! After all the times I've covered for you with Dad and Scott, you go and throw me to the sharks!"_

Alan grinned widely at his brother's hushed voice. He was obviously trying to hide from someone, and Alan would have bet any money that that someone was their dear older brother Scott.

"What's up Gordie?" Alan said easily. "Why are you whispering? It's seven o'clock there, isn't it?"

"_Cut the crap Alan. You know perfectly well I'm hiding from my certain death right now. Do you realize Scott has been looking for me and wringing his hands ever since he got back? I swear, if he was any madder, he would be shooting fire from his eyes and ripping the trees right out of the ground!"_

Alan let out a short, loud laugh. _That definitely sounds like Scott..._ Realizing his error, he threw his hand over his mouth to smother the giggles that were building inside of him at Gordon's continuing rant.

"_I mean, I've seen Scott mad before, but this is a new level of terrifying. Even Virgil, Brains and the Kyrano's are staying clear of him. I'm sure if Dad was here instead of at that conference in Los Angeles he would be able to talk him down, but for now I'm on my own. Do you realize how long I've been hiding for?"_

"How long Gordon?" Alan asked amusedly.

"_Three hours. Three hours, Alan!"_

That caught Alan's attention. "Gordon..." he said slowly. "Where are you that you've managed to have stayed hidden from Scott for three hours?"

"_Well wouldn't you like to know."_ Gordon said, his voice a mixture of taunting and indignation.

"Yes, actually."

Gordon huffed, but it was obvious to Alan that Gordon wanted him to be impressed by his ingenious hiding place, so he answered.

"_The EQ shed."_

Alan raised his eyebrows. "The EQ shed? The one down by the old service road?"

"Yup." Came the smug reply.

Alan whistled softly. "Wow. I haven't thought about that place in years. Didn't we used to always hide there when we were in trouble? Man, those were the days. Why do you think Scott hasn't found you yet?"

"_He probably doesn't remember where it is, or that it even exists. Remember, the only time Scott was there was when Dad sent him to get us for dinner and we dumped that bucket of sand on him. He's probably suppressing the memory."_

Alan snorted another laugh. "Yeah, but knowing Scott he could at this very moment being pulling up the island's database to look for all the caves and hollow trees that could be serving as your hidey-hole."

There was a short pause. _"You don't think he actually would... do you?"_ Gordon said nervously.

"It's Scott."

Another pause, though this one longer. _"Oh crap. I'm dead."_ Through the speaker came the very distinct sound of head and hair slamming repeatedly against wood. Almost like someone hitting their head against a wall again, and again, and again. In time to the steady beat came a low mumble _"Crap, crap, crap, crap..."_

"C'mon Gordo, stop killing brain cells. You know you're going to need every single one you have really soon." Alan laughed at the frustrated groan that answered him. "I have to go Gordie. I have a test on trigonometry tomorrow. Besides, I'm sure using this time to think of a plan would benefit you more than talking to me."

"_I hate you."_

Alan laughed lightly. "No you don't Gordon. You just think you do because I've finally outdone you." Alan sighed. "It's always a sad day when the pupil surpasses the teacher, isn't it?"

"_Just wait, _baby_ brother. This is just the beginning."_

"Unhun." Aland said placatingly. "Bye Gordon."

"_I really hate you."_

"Sure." With that, Alan hung up and leaned against the wall, smiling at his own brilliance. He sat for a moment, and then glanced at his watch. _I really should go back to bed._ He was just getting up when a light bulb went off in his head. Grinning even wider (if that was even possible), he sat back down on the toilet cover and placed another call. The person on the other end picked up after three rings.

"Alan." The voice said coldly.

Alan chuckled softly. "Keep your head on straight Scott. I have some information that I think you'll find _very_ interesting..."

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**Thanks for reading!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry this took awhile, but I actually spent a few days on it, instead of my usual "sit and write it all all in one sitting" thing. **

**DISCLAIMER: The usual. I don't own anything except my plots.**

**Enjoy!**

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Alan stepped off Tracy One, deeply breathing the warm, tropical air of the island and hitching his backpack further up onto his shoulder. He could hear Fermat shuffling slowly around the aircraft behind him, just having been woken up from the nap that had lasted the entire flight. Alan breathed deeply again. _It's good to be home._ He had been waiting for this for three months, ever since Christmas break. _Christmas break. Oh man._ He grinned, his mind filling with remembrance of his little parting gift with Scott, and by extension, Gordon. _Speaking of Gordon..._

Alan was greeted by the sight of Gordon running in a full sprint down the landing strip towards him. "HEY SPROUT!" Gordon yelled, pouncing on his younger brother and pulling him into a headlock.

"Ow, Gordon! Le'go!" Gordon simply pulled his brother tighter and gave him a noogie. "Seriously man, _get OFF!_" Alan grasped his brother's arms and threw them from around him, straightening himself and frowning. "What was that for?"

Gordon rocked on his heels, filled with his usual mixture of hyper energy and madness. "Oh nothing." He said slyly. "Just missed you is all." He turned to the aircraft that Alan had just stepped off of and began moving up the steps. "Is the rest of your stuff still in there?" he asked.

Alan nodded, watching his brother as he leapt up the stairs two at a time and ducked through the open doorway. Half a minute later Gordon emerged, followed by a very tired looking 13-year-old and carrying Alan's suitcase. Fermat immediately began to shuffle towards the waiting hanger door in the mountain, only pausing long enough to shoot Alan a glance and mumble "I'm going to bed. Wake me up for dinner."

When Gordon noticed Alan turn smiling away from Fermat's retreating back to watch him, he made an exaggeratedly tired face. "What's in here Sprout, your entire closet? I thought you had gotten over your 'pack-everything-because-you-never-know-what-could-happen' phase?"

Alan turned slightly pink; remembering the first few months after the Thunderbirds had begun operations when he had insisted on packing everything from bug spray to a compass every time he went somewhere. To this day he still didn't understand why he had felt compelled to bring such unnecessary things with him to the grocery store, but John said it was most likely because he wanted to feel a part of the team and prepared. He shrugged.

"I am. It's mostly my winter gear. It's getting warmer in Massachusetts, in case you didn't know. And when I say "warmer", I really mean not snowing. 'Cause that's about as warm as it gets." Alan said bitterly.

Gordon laughed at the disgusted expression on Alan's face. It was a well known fact in the Tracy household that Alan HATED the cold, and spent most of his time at Wharton's praying that his father would finally see sense and let him be home-schooled, or at least send him to a school in California or Florida. "Come on, Al." Gordon said, trying- not very hard- to cheer up his brother. "Only three more years, and then you'll never have to wear snow pants again."

Alan shot his brother a withering look. "Yeah, sure. This, coming from Mister 'wear-shorts-and-swim-all-day-on-a-tropical-island'."

Gordon laughed again, hoisting the duffel bag over his shoulder and slinging his other arm around the shoulders of his brother. He started walking towards their villa, pulling Alan along with him. "Don't be angry. It's not my fault, you know. Take it up with Dad if you hate it so much."

"Yeah right." Alan muttered, knowing full-well how that conversation would go. "Hey," Alan said suddenly, stopping in the middle of the tarmac and staring at Gordon. "Speaking of mad, why aren't you beating my head in with a shovel and then burying me with it?"

Gordon smiled widely; his eyes twinkling for some unknown reason that made Alan want to run back to the plane he had just left. "Because, darling brother," he started, once again walking towards the open hanger door in the side of the mountain. "I have decided to forgive you for your little stunt, even though Scott made me wax the entire surface of Thunderbird 1 and _then_ made me slide all his furniture back up your skids and into his room."

Alan stopped again, staring at his older brother with a mixture of shock and awe on his face. "Seriously? You're letting it go?"

"Yup. I'm forgiving you. You're welcome."

Alan grinned widely, walking through the doorway into the hanger and towards the waiting elevator. "Cool." _Now all I have to do is deal with Scott..._

* * *

The next few days past relatively uneventfully for the Tracys, except for a rescue in Austria that took several long hours of digging through mud before they could reach people trapped in their homes after an earthquake. Alan treaded lightly through the house, trying to avoid Scott and the wrath that was sure to come with him.

At first Jeff found it irritating, but he soon resigned himself to let it unfold. He definitely hadn't been happy with Alan's little idea, but he knew by now to let his sons work out their own problems. After all, they weren't kids anymore, and they usually knew not to take it too far. _Usually. _

Finally, after the third day of skipping family meals and looking around every corner and into every room before entering, Scott cornered Alan in his room while he was getting dressed.

Alan stood with his back to the door, doing up the buttons on a blue cotton shirt, when he heard a noise at his doorway. He whipped around and gave a small squeak when he saw who was standing there, staring at him with amused, dark eyes.

"Hey Al." Scott said, leaning against the door frame, arms crossed in front of his chest. "Now, stop me if I'm being silly, but I get the feeling that you've been avoiding me."

"No-not at all Scott." Alan said nervously. While he had been carrying out his genius plan he had felt quite invincible, but after the initial thrill had worn off he had just become scared of the punishment that awaited him. He still thought it was worth it though.

Scott chuckled quietly; the sound of it making Alan shift uncomfortably. "Really?"

Alan swallowed loudly as Scott took a casual step into the room. His eyes flitted around the room, trying to work out an escape plan that would leave most of his furniture and himself intact. He didn't come up with much. "Un hun. Really."

Scott took another step forward. "I think you're lying. I know you've been avoiding me, and I know why." He smiled at the look of panic on his younger brother's face; even though he loved them all, it was always good to know he could strike the fear of death into them when needed.

"I really think we should talk calmly about this, preferably in a room with witnesses." Alan said, holding up his hands in a non-threatening gesture.

"No, I think we should just talk about it now." Scott replied.

Another gulp. "Ok..."

Even though Scott enjoyed making his brother squirm, he knew he needed to do this quickly and casually if his plan was going to work. "I'll cut right to the chase. I just want you to know; I forgive you."

For the second time since he had gotten home, Alan stared open-mouthed at one of his brothers. This time, however, he was speechless. He had been expecting his brother to cheerfully punch his face in, and then push him out of Thunderbird 1- at 30,000 feet- with Gordon happily helping. However, instead of that, here were _two_ of his brothers letting him get off scot free.

Had he not been so elated at being allowed to live, he would have paid more attention to the blaring alarm going off in his head, saying _DO NOT TRUST IT DO NOT TRUST IT DO NOT TRUST IT!_ As it was, he simply finished buttoning up his shirt, trying his hardest to keep in the urge to do a few leprechaun kicks at his good fortune.

"Well, I really appreciate that. It's probably in your best interest, anyways." He said lightly.

Scott raised an eyebrow. "Oh really?"

"Yup." Alan said cheerfully. "You have no idea what I was planning next. But, since you're being so mature about last time, I'll lay off- for now."

"Thanks so much." Scott said sarcastically. "By the way, breakfast is ready; it's waffles today."

Alan couldn't believe his luck. First, he wasn't going to be punished _or_ been taken revenge against, _and_ he was getting waffles. "Sweet, I'll be down in a minute." With that, Alan turned back around to face his bed and started pulling the covers into their proper place, all the while thinking: _I hope Onaha has those great berries she sometimes puts on the waffles. Those are great._

Scott turned away from his brother, a smile already tugging at his lips. He practically skipped down the stairs to the dining room, whistling a cheery tune. _Oh Alan, if only you knew..._

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_**W**_**ell there's another chapter for you. I'm thinking of doing one more, then finishing off this... supposed to be one-shot but is currently three-shot?**

**Thanks for reading, anyways!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Yay! Update! It may by a little awkward, but I spent all afternoon writing it just for you guys. I hope you enjoy**

**DISCLAIMER: *sigh* nothing... not a thing... not one little Tracy boy to keep me company... they're not mine. *sad face***

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"_Sshhhhh!" _Scott hissed at his younger brother, all the while trying to balance the large box he was carrying and quietly open the door to Alan's balcony.

He threw a quick glance over his shoulder at his very unconscious baby brother, who was strewn across the bed, limbs stretched in all directions with his left foot hanging over the end. Scott had to suppress a laugh at Alan's position; it was so different from the one he had grown used to seeing when he checked on his brother's when they were younger. Alan used to sleep rolled up in his duvet like a giant burrito, and literally had to unwrap himself when he got up in the morning. Scott sighed at the memory. _He was so little..._ He shook his head to banish the images. _Now is not the time to get soft on him Scott. Just think of him as the aggravating, scheming, conniving -albeit formidable- opponent he has become._

"Sorry Scott." Gordon whispered back. "It's just that there's stuff piled _everywhere_! I don't understand how he can walk in this mess, let alone live in it." As if to accentuate his point, Gordon promptly tripped over a pile of clothes. He caught himself on the side of the desk just in time to avoid knocking over a stack of CDs on the floor.

Scott shot Gordon an incredulous look. _He says that after all the times I've fallen because of the mess on _his_ floor!_

"Oh don't give me that look Scott. I was never _this_ bad. Ok, so I left a few wet bathing suits and pairs of shoes around, so what?" Gordon whispered furiously.

"So, you only made Virgil fall and break his pinkie when he came in here to get the book you stole back." Scott snapped. He quickly looked at Alan again, but the younger boy only turned his head and snored softly. "Now," he said more quietly "will you stop complaining and help me over here? My hands are full and I can't turn the handle properly."

"Yeah yeah I'm coming. Keep your shorts on." Gordon grumbled. He slowly picked his way to where Scott was standing and waiting for the door to be opened. He only tripped once more, somehow managing to stay silent while holding his stubbed and now throbbing toe. "Shi-"

"Gordon!"

"_Dang_." Gordon glared at his brother.

"That's better."

He finally arrived next to Scott and opened the balcony door as quietly as possible. All the effort was unneeded however, as Alan was still in a deep sleep. The two boys slowly crept out onto the balcony. Scott put the box down in the middle of the floor and softly closed the door. He turned to Gordon with an evil smile on his face.

"You ready?"

Gordon's own grin was just as evil as his older brother's, though it didn't look as out of place. "Oh yeah, definitely. Alan, you'd better be prepared for this."

He turned to the box and started unpacking it. By the light of the moon, Gordon and Scott set to work.

* * *

He could swear he had heard something. He lay very still, holding his breath. There it was again! Alan sat up slowly in his bed, rubbing his eyes and listening intently for any noise- besides the usual cacophony of hoots and screeches that came with being constantly surrounded by tropical fauna. He held his breath. _What is that? It sounds like a... I don't even know what that sounds like! It must be some new bird or something, though it doesn't sound like it. _

He sat still for a few moments, trying to place the noise as something he might recognize. When all had been quiet for a full five minutes, Alan shrugged. _Guess I was dreaming._ He reached over to check the time on his watch, and then chucked the thing onto the end of his bed. He stood up slowly, stretched, and ambled over to his bathroom to take a shower.

It was fifteen minutes later as he was leaving the bathroom when he heard it again. It was a long, low groan that ended in a very sudden high-pitched screech. Alan could think of nowhere he had ever heard anything like it. Clad in only a towel around his waist, he stood puzzled for several long minutes as the noise repeated itself over again. _It sounds really close, maybe it's right outside?_

It wasn't hurting him, but after several more minutes the noise was starting to get on his nerves. He tried to ignore it, but it kept floating into his ears and grating his mind. When he had finally had enough, he stomped to the balcony door and tore it open, intent on kicking the stupid animal right off the rail where it was most likely perched, screeching its infernal head off. He stopped short however, when he realised that besides a plastic lounge chair, there was nothing on his balcony, let alone something capable of creating such a harsh racket.

_Wha...?_ Alan didn't know what to make of the mystery noise. On the one hand, it was irritating the hell out of him, but on the other hand, it was a beautiful day, and it wouldn't be right to spend it worrying about some brainless bird. He was so distracted by the clear, blue sky and fresh, scented air that he didn't hear the quiet footsteps behind him until it was too late.

_Click!_ Alan whipped around. It was the sound of his balcony door being closed behind him. He forgot all about the bird and the peaceful island morning as he attempted to open the door. It jiggled uselessly in his hand, but the door didn't budge one bit. He felt a growing sense of unease. Sure, it was looking to be a beautiful day outside, but being stuck on a 6x5 covered platform in nothing but a towel was not how he had wanted to spend his time. He jiggled the door handle one more time, and when it didn't budge he dropped moodily onto the lounge chair. _Someone will walk by below eventually, and they can let me in._ With that comforting thought, Alan crossed his arms and leaned back, slowly drifting back to sleep.

* * *

He was awoken for the second time that day by a loud screech. This time he jolted awake, because accompanying the noise was a very amused and very feminine sounding voice.

"Alan?" _Tin-Tin!_

He leaped up from the chair and took a step towards the railing of the balcony, completely forgetting about the towel that was slipping ever so slowly from around his waist. She was standing below and before him on the path from the pool deck down to the beach.

"Hey Tin-Tin, what's up?" he leaned casually on one elbow, trying his hardest to look relaxed (and not trapped).

She ignored his question. "What are you doing?"

"Oh, you know, just... enjoying the day."

She raised an eyebrow and suppressed a small giggle. "Really? Is there any specific reason you've decided to enjoy the day in a towel?"

Alan felt his face grow warm as he suddenly remembered the towel, and turned bright red when he realised just how loose it had become during his nap. He fumbled with the edges of it and frantically tried to tuck it in properly, while an amused Tin-Tin stood with her hands on her hips, shaking with silent laughter.

"I... uh... my door..." he tried to explain, but she just gave a small laugh and raised her hand.

"Whatever. I'll see you later, 'kay?"

"Ah... yeah. Yeah, I'll see you later. Next time I'll remember my clothes." Alan joked.

Tin-Tin snorted back a laugh, and tried her hardest to contain the waves of giggles that were trying to escape from her. She turned down away from Alan and gave a small wave over her shoulder. "You do that." She tried to keep the laughter from her voice. As much as she was laughing at Alan's embarrassment, it was equally his last statement combined with what Gordon had told her last night that made it almost impossible to not burst out laughing. _Good luck Alan. You're going to need it._

* * *

Three hours later, a very exasperated Alan was pacing, stopping every few passes of the small area to re-adjust his towel. _I can't believe this!_ At first, Alan had been quite content to lay back and watch the clouds pass until someone walked past his balcony, as he was sure someone would. So far, the only person who had passed had been Fermat, and when Alan had called out to him he had replied:

"Se-se-sorry Alan. I've g-gotta hurry to the beach t-to get there in t-t-time for the t-tides."

"Hey!" Alan had called after him, shocked and furious that his best friend had left him trapped. Fermat had only waved hastily and continued jogging, being quickly swallowed by the jungle.

_And of course, I left my watch inside._ Alan thought as he made his 2514th pass of the balcony. He was surprised that no one besides Fermat had walked past his room; normally one of his brothers was running the path or going down to the beach every other hour. This surprise also came with suspicion, because it seemed too convenient that just as he had become trapped, the mysterious bird-noise had stopped and no one had come by who he could have appealed to for help. _I'd bet my F1 tickets for next season that this is Gordon's doing. Probably pay-back, even though he said he wouldn't! That little-_ The thought was cut short by a loud click behind him.

He whirled around and rushed to the now-unlocked door. He wrenched it open, intending to smack whoever he saw on the other side forcefully on the side of the head. He paused; there was no there. He hesitatingly put his toes down on the plush carpet inside his room. When no bag of flour came crashing down from the ceiling to crush him, Alan planted the foot firmly on the floor. He continued cautiously into the room, avoiding mess on the floor as well as keeping an eye out for disturbances. He didn't notice anything. _Everything seems to be where I left it._

He stood in the middle of the room, his bewilderment morphing very slowly into panic. _What the heck is going on!_ He was about to flop onto his bed when something caught his eye. The red t-shirt he had dropped onto the floor after his run the day before was missing. As were the pair of jeans and socks he had worn when his brothers and he had played capture the flag in the jungle around their house the previous week.

Alan walked over to his dresser, intending on getting dressed and then going on a mission to discover where his missing articles of clothes had gone. He slid the drawer open and stopped cold. He froze- every single t-shirt in the drawer was missing, which meant he could see the smooth, dark wood underneath. He bent down and opened the door designated for his shorts. It too was empty. A feeling of dread settled itself in the pit of his stomach.

Every drawer was checked before Alan was ready to leave his room. Clutching his towel firmly around his waist, he stormed into the hallway and bellowed at the top of his lungs.

"GORDON!"

Two levels below, two brothers exchanged very amused (and evil) smiles.

* * *

"What did you do!" Alan yelled at Gordon, who was sitting calmly at the table drinking orange juice and reading a report.

"Whatever do you mean?" Gordon asked innocently.

"You know what I mean." snarled Alan. He kept a firm grasp on his towel as he stalked over to his immediately-older brother. "_Where. Are. My. Clothes?"_

"Haven't the foggiest." Gordon replied. He gave Alan an absent-minded smile, before turning the page of his report.

"Gordon..." Alan warned. He knew that Gordon had something to do with the fact that the only thing he had to cover himself was a faded peach towel, and Alan had no qualms about beating the location of his stolen garments out of him.

"Tell him Gordie." A voice said from behind Alan in the doorway. Alan turned and saw Scott leaning casually in the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest and an amused smirk on his face.

Gordon looked gleefully at Scott, who nodded. When Gordon looked back at Alan, the happy expression was replaced by one of smug knowledge. Alan looked expectantly between the two. His anger level was rising, fuelled only more so by the fact that he had spotted Tin-Tin, Fermat and Virgil crouching behind a bush outside, obviously looking to hear what Alan's brothers had to say to him. _Honestly. I though Virge was more mature than that. _"Well?" he said expectantly.

"Dear brother Alan," Gordon started, "Your clothing has been taken captive. We, as your older, wiser and more attractive brothers, have deemed it necessary."

Alan gaped at Gordon and Scott, the latter having crossed the room to stand behind Gordon's chair. "What!"

"You heard him." said Scott. "We have all your clothes, and you will only get them back when we decide you can _have_ them back."

"In case you haven't noticed Scott," Alan said hotly. "I kind of need my clothes to wear _right now!_"

"Well then you'd better get started." Scott said lightly.

"Started what?"

"Working." Gordon chirped. "You get one article of clothing back every time you do something for one of us. And it has to be something we've asked you to do."

Alan couldn't believe what he was hearing, but Gordon wasn't finished yet. "To start off, I could use some more juice." He looked meaningfully between Alan and his empty glass.

Growling angrily-but not wanting to be stuck wearing a towel for the rest of his life- Alan snatched the glass off the table and stalked into the kitchen. Gordon and Scott traded grins while listening to the sound of their youngest brother rooting around in the fridge, cursing them under his breath.

"Language, Alan." Scott called, which was replied with an angry:

"Shut up."

Alan stomped back into the kitchen and slammed the glass down in front of Gordon. Silently Scott left the room, returned a minute later to chuck something white at Alan's face. He looked at the fabric in his hands. It was a single pair of underwear. _Damn it. This is going to take awhile._

"Can I ask you guys two questions?" Alan asked.

"Sure."

"First off, what was that noise?"

"Oh, just a little something we threw together. A tape recorder, some mixing software and very tiny speakers can really go a long way."

Alan didn't say anything. Really, it didn't surprise him that Gordon had thought of it, especially since he had Fermat and Brains to turn to for anything technical that he didn't understand. Instead of responding to his brother's statement, he instead asked his second question. "Why? I though you said you weren't angry anymore?"

"Well," Gordon said. "It was Scott's idea, so ask him." Alan turned to Scott.

"Because _baby_ brother," Scott said slowly. He leaned closer to Alan's ear and said in a hushed voice "I said you were forgiven. I never said I wouldn't get even." Scott straightened and swept out of the room, followed closely by Gordon. That left Alan in the middle of the dining room, hastily pulling on his sole article of clothing beneath his towel.

* * *

Outside the window and hidden by a small cluster of shrubs, Tin-Tin, Fermat and Virgil were rolling on the ground laughing. They had already known about Scott and Gordon's revenge plan of course, but to see it in action was too much for them.

"Did you see the look on his face?" Tin-Tin asked breathlessly, wiping her streaming eyes.

"Ye-ye-yeah. It w-was priceless!" Fermat responded.

While Fermat and Tin-Tin discussed the prank and moaned about not having taped it, Virgil leaned against a tree trunk, clutching his side. Seeing Alan's face when he had realised what had happened had easily been the highlight of his day. He thought back to all the other pranks his younger brothers had pulled, but none seemed like they had provided as much long-term entertainment as this one was sure to. Virgil was just glad his father had agreed to it; Jeff Tracy was a good father, but all his sons knew that if he wasn't happy about something, it was wisest for everyone to shut up about it and pray.

Virgil pushed himself off the ground and began picking his way through the various plants to the door.

"Where are you going?" Tin-Tin called after him. She and Fermat were still leaning against each other, holding the other up while they were laughing.

"To call John." Virgil said over his shoulder. "He's gonna want to hear about this." As he opened the glass door to the living room, Virgil smiled. _Sometimes my brothers suck, but at times like these, I wouldn't give them up for anything._

* * *

**Doney done done done! Well, maybe an epilogue. We'll see. **

**R&R PLEASE! (Tell me what I can improve on)**


	5. Chapter 5 or Epilogue

**YAY! Finally officially done my first multi-chapter fic! I'll let you all know: It was a LOT harder than I thought it would be.**

**Well this was _supposed_ to be an epilogue, but I guess I had more left to say than what I had originally though. Anyways, whether you consider it an epilogue or final chapter, please ENJOY!**

**DISCLAIMER: Still the same. As usual. I don't own anything.**

**ALSO: please see the A/N at the bottom of this epilogue/chapter. Thanks!**

* * *

Scott was in a better mood than he had been in a long time. Having Alan as his and Gordon's personal slave was one of the greatest things that had ever happened to him. _I have to admit, the kid can be a damn good worker when he wants to be._

Alan had done almost nothing but his brother's biddings since the unfortunate kidnapping of his entire island wardrobe the week before. He had cleaned Thunderbirds, done laundry, cleaned rooms, prepared snacks and on occasion done other chores when Gordon and Scott had lent him out to the rest of the island's inhabitants. So with only two days left in his two week long school vacation, there were only a few articles of clothing left for him to work back. Unfortunately for him, his brothers also realized this, and so took full advantage of his servant hood while they still could.

* * *

"Gordon, please. Leave me alone for five minutes!" Alan pleaded as his immediate older brother bounced into his room. Alan had snuck off to his room hoping for a respite from the constant barrage of requests from his siblings, but apparently it was to no avail.

Gordon grinned. "Not a chance. You still want your running shorts back, don't you?"

Alan scowled at Gordon's obvious taunt. The older boy knew Alan needed his shorts back for track at Wharton's, and wasn't afraid to exploit that fact. "Fine." He said moodily. "What do you want?"

"I've decided that Thunderbird 4 needs a new coat of paint. Her current one is looking a bit dingy."

Alan gaped at his older brother. "What? Are you serious? You just gaveher a new paint job a few months ago!"

"Yeah, but we had that rescue in New Orleans, remember? The water was all muddy, and there are a bunch of chips in the paint from when I got hit by underwater tree branches."

"No." Alan said flatly. He was _not_ doing that. The special paint that Brains had created for the Thunderbirds was horrible to work with, and smelled like rotten fish and feet. Usually they only did touch up jobs, but covering Thunderbird 4's entire surface would take hours.

"Shorts..." Gordon said in a voice that said he knew exactly where the conversation was going to go.

"Fine. But I won't forget this." Alan threatened as he rolled off his bed to change into an old t-shirt. He all but stomped out of the room, past a practically glowing Gordon and shoulder bumping an entertained Virgil.

"What did you make him do this time?" Virgil asked the still beaming Gordon.

"Nothing too major," He replied casually. "I just felt that my 'bird could use a nice new coat of paint before we had to go out again. You know, to keep her looking good for the cameras."

"The banned ones?" Virgil questioned.

"For the people we rescue then." Gordon corrected.

Virgil stared down the hallway after Alan. He felt kind of bad for the kid; having to spend his entire between-semester break from school bending to every whim of his brothers. But he didn't dwell on the sympathy for too long, because he knew that Alan would think of some even more creative thing to do Scott and Gordon. As long as he didn't get pulled into it, Virgil was perfectly fine with whatever his brothers did to each other.

"Speaking of brothers," he began. "I'm gonna go call Johnny. He'll definitely want to know about this."

Gordon watched his brother walk towards their dad's office. In all honestly, he was kind of tired of the whole "bossing-Alan-around" thing, but Scott still seemed to be having the time of his life, so Gordon just went along with it. Normally not many things could occupy him for any extended period of time, and this revenge plan was no exception.

_Oh well. The Sprout's going back to school in two days and then something new and exciting will happen._ As if responding to Gordon's thoughts, the klaxon suddenly blared loudly out of the speaker in Alan's room. All thoughts of pranks and revenge aside, Gordon rushed from the room towards his father's office.

Five minutes later Jeff Tracy's deep, commanding voice boomed out. "Thunderbirds are go!"

* * *

Alan stepped onto the bottom step of the stairs leading up to Tracy One. He felt the same twinge of sadness he felt every time he had to go back to school, but he consoled himself with the fact that he wouldn't have to do anymore chores for his brothers.

He thought back to all the things he had done. Some of them hadn't actually been that bad, like walking with Virgil along the beach to find shells, but he was still glad that he would be getting back to his friends at school. _Wow. I'd have never thought I would be one to say that._

Alan smiled softly to himself. He was proud of the effort he had put into school recently. He had been pleasantly surprised when he had realized that if he actually applied himself, he was able to get good grades. And he'd had a ton of fun becoming involved in the various teams and clubs that his school offered. He also knew his father and brothers were just as proud of him, which made it even better.

He was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of Fermat coming up behind him. The younger boys slight puffing was an indication to Alan of just how much stuff Fermat was bringing back to school with him. Alan turned to watch his closest friend and smirked at him.

"What some help there Fermat?" he asked sarcastically.

Fermat glared at Alan, but handed the bag over anyways, glad to be free of the weight on his shoulder. Alan hoisted the bag over his shoulder, grunting at the unexpected heavy weight.

"What do you have in here, Gordon's entire stash of stink bombs?" Alan questioned while walking up the steps to the cabin to deposit the bag.

"J-j-just some more b-books."

"More?" Alan asked incredulously. He was thinking about the multiple piles of books they had scattered around their room.

"I b-brought a lot h-h-home w-with me when w-w-we came back, re-mem-member?" Fermat replied defensively.

"Oh yeah. Sorry, I forgot." Alan dropped the bag next to Fermat's designated seat and made his way back down the stairs.

"It's okay." The two boys shared a brief smile before they heard an anguished cry.

"ALAN! NOOOO!" Their smiles quickly turned to looks of confusion, and both immediately began to search for the source of the cry. They were soon put as ease however, when they saw Gordon running full tilt down the runway towards them, his arms outstretched and an exaggerated look of sorrow on his face.

"DON'T LEAVE ALAN! PLEASE! WE NEED YOU!" Alan looked alarmed when Gordon collapsed in his arms, sobbing hysterically.

"There, there Gordon... it's... okay?" Alan said as he awkwardly patted Gordon's back. He looked back and forth between a frightened Fermat and a smirking Scott, the latter of which was sauntering down the runway with a giggling Virgil and Tin-Tin in tow. "What's wrong?"

Gordon sniffled twice before answering. "You... with you leaving, there will be no one left to do my laundry for me!"

Alan's mixed look of concern and alarm immediately morphed into one of disgust, and he quickly released Gordon and let him drop to the ground.

"Dad will be here in a second, Alan." Virgil said, trying to contain the laughter at his younger brother's antics. "He just had to finish a business call with one of his Tracy Enterprises executives."

"Okay." The group on the runway chatted idly for a few minutes while waiting for Jeff to emerge from his business. It didn't bother Alan as much as it used to; he understood why his father worked as hard as he did, and he appreciated it.

"Sorry boys," Jeff said when he finally appeared. "I had some clients that just had to be dealt with. I'm sorry your father couldn't come with us this time Fermat, but his presence was needed at that conference."

Fermat nodded. "I-I underst-stand. I already s-s-said b-bye to him."

Jeff smiled. "Well then, let's get going. We have a long flight and I know you boys wanted to be back in time for dinner." He walked up the stairs and disappeared into the cabin, allowing his sons and honorary niece and nephew time to say goodbye.

"C'mere Sprout." Virgil started, pulling his younger brother into a hug/headlock and holding him for a second. "I'm gonna miss you." He said as he released Alan.

"Me too." Alan replied. He watched as Scott and Tin-Tin both hugged Fermat in succession, Gordon being still collapsed on the ground from where Alan had dropped him. When he noticed that Virgil and Alan had stepped apart, Gordon quickly popped up from his slumped position and gave his younger brother a crushing hug.

"I'm going to miss you so much." Gordon blubbered.

Alan threw his brother off and stomped a few paces away. "Whatever." he said.

"Ahn, Alan! What, are you mad that you have to go back to school?" Gordon questioned, a small frown tugging at the corner of his mouth when he realized that his brother wasn't laughing like usual. A terrible thought occurred to him. "Are you still mad at Scotty and me?"

Alan allowed Gordon to sweat for a minute, than sighed dramatically. "No. I guess I'm not mad." A small smile began to emerge on his lips. "In fact, I'm ecstatic."

Gordon looked at him, confused.

"You know why?" Alan asked. Gordon shook his head. "Because: I am officially off the hook! Scott gave me my last pair of socks about an hour ago, and now you have nothing to hold over me. No more laundry, no more cleaning up after you, no more giving you massages, no more getting you food while you're in the room next door. I am DONE!"

Alan's small grin had transformed into a full-blown, toothy smile, which remained fixed on his face as he gave Tin-Tin a quick, one armed hug. "See ya later Tin."

"Bye Alan. Have a good semester." She gave him a small wave and stepped back, leaving Gordon, Scott and Alan in a small group, with the latter facing the other two.

Fermat had already finished his round of hugs and had moved to sit on the top step of the stairs leading into the private aircraft. He would have gone in and helped Mr. Tracy with the pre-flight checks, but he hadn't wanted to miss what was sure to transpire between Alan, Gordon and Scott.

All three boys stood facing each other for a moment of silence. Scott was the first to break it.

"Well Sprout, I guess you've paid back your debt. So, you're right. You are off the hook." He moved in to give the younger boy a hug. "Just remember this when you're coming up with any more brilliant ideas, will you?"

Alan laughed and nodded.

"Good." Scott smiled. "Now go get back to your learning. Maybe one day you'll get grades that are _almost_ as good as mine were."

"Yeah right." Virgil snorted, breaking into the conversation. "You were a HUGE nerd, and we all know it. The only way the kid's going to get grades as good as yours is if he does exactly what you did: nothing but sit in his room and study. And my baby brother is _much_ too cool for that!"

"Thanks Virge." Alan said. "C'mon Ferm, let's get going." He started to move up the stairs towards Fermat's sitting position.

"Hey wait!" Alan turned to see Gordon halfway up the stairs, a hurt expression on his face. "Don't I get a goodbye?"

Alan smiled; an evil grin that would rival that of his immediate older brother's. "Oh yeah, you do. Go check your room." With that, Alan turned and swept into the plane.

The three young people left outside exchanged shocked and amused expressions, then turned simultaneously to watch Gordon's rapidly disappearing figure as he sprinted to the villa to assess the damage. They were all sure of one thing: Alan may have been smart, but sometimes he really was stupid.

* * *

When Fermat entered Tracy One he was greeted by Alan's smirking face. "Wh-what did you d-do?" He asked his best friend. Alan shrugged in response.

"Nothing." He giggled. "Sometimes I just feel the need to remind them that even though I'm the youngest, they should all still fear me."

Alan and Fermat both laughed easily and leaned back in their seats as they felt the powerful engines of Tracy One rev up beneath them.

"_Here we go boys: back to school."_ Jeff's voice came over the intercom. He was struggling not to laugh; he had heard the whole exchange between his two youngest sons and couldn't wait to return to the island to learn what Alan had done. He contemplated just asking Alan, but figured it would be more fun to hear the story from Gordon.

_Yeah._ Alan thought contentedly. _Back to school. I wonder what will happen next..._

* * *

**Sorry for the cheesiness at the end, I couldn't resist.**

**A/N: I would just like to take this oppurtinity to ask everyone for a tiny favour. (sorry if the whole request comes off as a tad pretentious)**

**Please send me a message or leave a review about what you think about my writing style. I would like to know if it's easy to read, boring, repetitive, engaging, whatever. Be brutally honest.**

**And always, thanks for reading and please R&R!**


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